North
by AlwaysFidelius
Summary: Kensi and Deeks venture northward, into the land of polar bears, icicles, and the Northern Lights. But all is not as it seems in the land of the midnight sun, and soon the two agents find themselves in far over their heads...
1. Chapter 1

**So, here begins my first fanfiction attempt! Feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think of it! Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA! *By the way, this story is set sometime between Deeks coming to NCIS and Hetty leaving***

Chapter One

Monday, September 20

Not for the first time, NCIS Special Agent Kensi Blye's morning was interrupted by a piercing whistle. The sound startled her, and she jumped like a cat, nearly spilling a steamy cup of coffee across her paperwork.

"_Eric!_"

"Everyone up to Ops!" The techie called brightly from his place on the building's balcony, obviously unaware that he had woken Kensi from a near-doze.

"You're looking refreshed, Kensi." Deeks quipped as he breezed past her.

"My neighbor's damn dog was yapping all night," She swiped a hand across her face. "And this morning my car wouldn't start, so I hopped the downtown bus and ended up almost missing my stop." Kensi contemplated smuggling her coffee into Ops but decided against it. Being alert this morning wasn't worth Hetty's wrath about the breach of her 'no food or drinks' policy in the techie's headquarters.

_Speaking of Hetty..._

The director's tiny figure was unmistakable, surveying them from a position atop the stairwell. Kensi was immediately glad that she had opted to abandon her steaming mug of coffee, and even more so when Hetty beckoned to her.

"Agent Blye," The little director cleared her throat. "My office, if you will."

"Of course." Kensi followed Hetty down the main stairs, through the bustle of a typical day at the OSP's headquarters. Agents rushed past laden with folders, racks of clothing, cardboard boxes. They spoke rapid-fire into headsets, cell phones, checked wristwatches, always alert.

Hetty's office was a stark contrast to this: dimly lit, every surface draped with rich cloth or crowded with artifacts (some of which Kensi was certain belonged in a museum somewhere). The only sound was the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner. Hetty adjusted some folders on her desk, shifting a couple of teacups in the process.

"I have an assignment for you, Agent Blye."

At once, Kensi's ears perked up. "Undercover?"

"Yes." Hetty eyed her closely for a moment before pressing into Kensi's hands a thin folder. "Operation Yellowknife."

Kensi flipped through the folder, her eyes skimming over the information. It was scant, to say the least. "So, I'll be recovering a stolen..."

"Microchip." Hetty confirmed. "It contains information vital to national safety."

_Sounds interesting._ Kensi leafed through the few papers in the folder. "And an informant will be giving the chip to Anita Gray and Damian Brock." She paused, then added, "Which will be me, and a partner."

"That is correct." Hetty fussed with her large eyeglasses for a moment, watching Kensi carefully. "It could take as long as two months."

"Two months in—" Kensi flipped hastily to the front page. "Yukon territory? As in...Alaska?"

"The northernmost area of North America. Or close to it, at least."

"I'll be undercover as Anita Gray." Kensi felt confident that she could assume this role. "And who will be my partner?"

"Agent Hanna."

_Sam! _Kensi felt greatly relieved—she had worked with Sam for a while now, and trusted him like a brother. "Great! When do we leave?"

"In three days," Hetty shuffled a thick stack of papers on her desk's cluttered surface. "From Los Angeles Air Force Base. Since you'll be staying in a remote location, supplies will be provided."

Every word reverberated with the promise of adventure and excitement. Kensi, who had never been north of Oregon, was thrilled. "Will it snow?"

"It's only mid-September," Hetty reminded her. "Snow is unlikely."

"That's good, I guess," Kensi fought to keep a smile from her face. "We'll bring home that microchip. Thank you, Hetty."

"You are most welcome, Agent Blye." Hetty gave her a firm smile, a motherly look as Kensi left the office.

_An assignment! _She strolled back to Ops, eager to start planning with Sam.

* * *

><p>A lot can go wrong in three days time. On Tuesday morning, Kensi found herself once again seated in Hetty's office. This time, however, she was staring at the Director with disbelief.<p>

"He broke his _arm_?"

"Training, I'm afraid." Hetty gave her a sympathetic smile. "As I'm sure you can imagine, Agent Hanna was extremely disappointed. Going undercover is far too dangerous for him at the moment."

"I'm just glad that he's okay." Kensi said, and meant it. Then another thought crept into her head, not nearly as pleasant. "So, I'll be partnered with..."

"Another member of the team." Hetty replied.

_Please make it Callen. Pleasepleaseplease let it be Callen. Callen, Eric, Nell, that weird guy who works in the mail room—hell, anyone but..._

"Hey, partner!" The smiling visage of none other than Marty Deeks appeared in the doorway.

Kensi's stomach sank. It wasn't that she didn't trust Deeks as a cop—he was a good cop and a great partner, and they had learned to respect each other and work together well—but spending two months in the wilderness with him could only lead in one direction. The wrong one.

"Deeks." Kensi forced a smile. He grinned back, clearly oblivious to her trepidation.

* * *

><p>"I hope you're all packed for tomorrow!" Deeks commented as they left the building together. "Callen's picking us up at seven."<p>

"I know." Kensi replied somewhat shortly. Deeks seemed not to notice.

"I've never been to Alaska before."

"Me neither."

"It'll be awesome."

"We'll be on a dangerous mission."

"...still." Deeks clapped her shoulder and swaggered away. Kensi watched him go, tan and attractive, in a surfer-guy kind of way, and good lord so damn _annoying_. She rolled her eyes.

It was going to be a long two months.

**So...what did you all think? Shout it out with our dear friend the review button! Any comment/criticism is totally welcome, as are suggestions! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading/reviewing, guys! You all rock! Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA!**

Chapter Two

By six-thirty the next morning, Kensi was awake and ready to go, the promise of adventure thrumming in her veins. Maybe this was her father's blood coming out in her once more—the love of cold, crisp air, of far-off places and the feeling of an adventure about to start. She fixed herself a microwaved cup of coffee and migrated out to the front stoop. Steam curled into the chilly air. Overhead, sun had broken through the morning's clouds, and Kensi knew that it would be a beautiful day in LA.

Callen pulled up at seven o'clock sharp, with Deeks riding shotgun. Kensi crammed herself into the tiny backseat, settling her go-bag on her lap.

"Excited, Kensi?" Deeks queried.

"This is serious business."

"I know." He sounded thrilled. "Think it will snow?"

"I doubt it."

"You never know..."

Halfway through the drive, Kensi insisted that Callen stop at a rundown liquor store; she and Deeks climbed out and filed in. Kensi grabbed two bottles of cheap vodka.

"Little early to be drinking, huh, Kensi?" Deeks joked—Kensi shot him a death glare as the cashier rang up her alcohol. She figured that the drinks would come in handy later on in the mission, when her partner would no doubt grate on her nerves.

Outside, Callen was waiting by the curb, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Deeks and Kensi scrambled for shotgun, with Kensi winning by a margin. Deeks folded himself into the backseat, grumbling.

As they sped down the freeway, southbound, Kensi stared through the car's window. Palm trees and buildings flashed past beneath a sweep of cerulean sky. It was beautiful, every inch of it.

She couldn't help but wonder when she would see it again.

* * *

><p>They entered the Los Angeles Air Force Base at a few minutes shy of eight o'clock. As Callen steered the car towards the airstrip, he nodded to the plastic bag in Kensi's lap.<p>

"Stocking up for the mission, huh?"

Kensi glanced down at the cold bottles. "Two months in the woods with _Deeks_? I'll be lucky if this is all the alcohol I need..."

"Hey! I heard that!" Deeks protested from the backseat. "And roll down the window, will you? It's stuffy back here."

"Good thing we're here." Callen shot back. Kensi's eyes drifted across the windy airstrips; a military transport aircraft, bulky and green, stood on the runway. A windsock flapped wildly in the stiff breeze. They extracted themselves from the car, breathing deeply in the warm morning air.

"Flight leaves in ten minutes." Deeks commented, squinting in the sunlight.

Kensi turned to Callen, nervousness fluttering in her stomach. Two months was a long time to be away from friends and family.

"You stay safe up there, Kenz."

"I will." She shot him a smile, hoping that it didn't betray her sudden anxiety. "Stay safe down here, got it?"

"Got it."

"Bye, Callen." She embraced him tightly. It was a long time before she broke away. Deeks clapped Callen on the shoulder, then pulled him into one of those weird one-armed guy hugs. Kensi almost rolled her eyes.

"See you in two months!" She called to Callen as they strode across the airstrip, bags in hand. Weeds grew through cracks in the cement. Two months—that was how long Hetty had told her it would take, but things rarely went as planned. Lord knows they all knew that much.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, they were tilting above the city, the plane banking as it turned north. Kensi could imagine the buildings and roads dropping away beneath the landing gears. That sense of adventure began to hum again.<p>

The plane was nearly empty, save for a few loads of supplies and a couple of weary-looking Air Force recruits. Kensi and Deeks settled themselves along the plane's net seating. Surprisingly, Kensi found herself striking up conversation.

"I'll bet that Monty is going to pine while you're away."

"I know he is." Deeks looked fond at the thought of companion. In a lot of ways, Kensi thought, smiling, Deeks and Monty were similar: stubborn, scruffy, fiercely loyal.

"Nell is looking after him, actually." Deeks added. Kensi knew that the red-haired techie would take good care of Monty. "How about you? You just leave your apartment all empty?"

"Kind of," Kensi admitted. "My landlord turned off the water and electricity, but he didn't sound happy about it. My cousin promised to look in once a week, but we'll see how that goes..."

A few moments of silence passed. Kensi decided that she ought to get some sleep before they landed; it was then that the real work would begin. She adjusted her bag on her lap, shifted her backpack around, and leaned back.

"Are you going to sleep?" Deeks asked. When Kensi nodded, he added, "Because you can lean on my shoulder, if you want."

"No, thanks." Although she was sure that he'd meant it as a kind offer, Kensi suspected that something less innocent lurked beneath that offer. She was about to smile at him when Deeks quipped,

"Or, you know, my lap..."

"Ew." Kensi shot him a glare and scooted a few inches away. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

She was roused what felt like only moments later by a whisper in her ear. Kensi started; she had been leaning against something soft and warm. She caught the smell of salt before realizing that it was Deeks's shoulder.

"Did I fall asleep on you?" She all but jumped backwards, straightening her shirt. Deeks shrugged, as if this was no big deal.

"You just kind of drooped over. I didn't want you to fall or anything."

"Thanks." Kensi mumbled, hoping that none of the clean-cut recruits had seen her dozing on her partner's shoulder—unprofessional, she thought, although it was kind of him not to nudge her awake sooner.

"I think we're landing."

Kensi nodded silently. She could feel, in the pit of her stomach, the plane's descent. It was slightly unsettling to be dropping lower over an alien land, and all without seeing it. Suddenly, the air inside the plane felt cooler. Kensi shivered without realizing it.

* * *

><p>They stepped out of the plane and into a blast of bitter air. Kensi stood still for a moment, amazed by the surrounding landscape. Rugged terrain swept across a high plain, and in the distance jagged mountains loomed. A scrim of snow covered the ground, and more was falling from the sky. It was freezing cold, chilling to the bone, but beautiful.<p>

Kensi was glad that she had packed a parka.

"Snow? This early in the year?" Deeks exclaimed, joining her. He was shivering, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. Kensie dug her parka out of her bag and fumbled it on. Deeks followed suit, zipping his coat up to his chin. He had sounded sort of excited by the prospect of snow back in LA, but now he looked suspicious, as if this was all part of some evil scheme.

"Hetty's instructions were to walk to the bus terminal and take the Green Line south, to the edge of the town." Kensi read aloud from her paperwork. "Guess that nobody anticipated snow."

Deeks mumbled something under his breath, but Kensi didn't catch it. He was squinting around, snow in his hair, eyes scanning the horizon.

"Better start walking."

**For those of you who have read this far—thanks! Feel free to leave a review telling me what y'all thought of it! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all of the kind readers who reviewed this story or added it to story alert! It means a lot that you guys are reading and liking it! :) Disclaimer: still standing...I don't own NCIS:LA (alas, alas!)**

Chapter Three

"This is official," Deeks grouched, stamping through ankle-deep snowdrifts on the roadside. "I hate Canada."

"Alaska." Kensi corrected, hitching her backpack higher up on her back.

"Whatever."

They had been walking (trudging, in the case of one Marty Deeks) for nearly an hour, and Kensi could have sworn that with every step, the distant town's lights drifted further away across the horizon. The snow had begun to fall in earnest now, blanketing the roadside and the miles of barren fields. It was a lonely scene.

"Boy, I wish I had my badge right now." Deeks gripped as a pickup truck sped past, heading in the opposite direction. "I could whip it out and commandeer a car."

"We're undercover." Kensi hissed back. "To the locals, we're just a couple of stupid tourists. Only that informant will know."

"I don't like the sound of that, you know?" Deeks was squinting again, although the sun had long since disappeared. "Informant, Hetty says, and then gives us some crappy description. Brown hair, beard, dark eyes, five foot seven. That guy could be anyone!"

Kensi kept quiet, but she privately agreed with her partner's sentiment: Hetty's description had sounded good when they were standing in her office in sunny LA. Here, in the cold of the falling snow, among strangers, it was more than weak. Still, Kensi had a lot of faith in NCIS; the OSP had been her home for several years, and she knew that she could trust her co-workers there.

The minutes that passed in silence felt like hours. Eventually, the road widened a little, and the bus station slid into focus. Kensi and Deeks joined the single other passenger at the bench, a teenage girl with greasy hair and a mournful expression. She looked them up and down slowly. Kensi noticed the girl's eyes linger a little longer on Deeks's face.

"Where you two from?" She wore a ratty parka, lurid pink, and old boots. Tight jeans, stained.

"Out of town." Kensi replied, keeping it vague. The girl nodded.

"That's weird, you wanting to come here. You here, like, on vacation?"

"Kind of." Deeks pushed his hands into his pockets. Kensi thought that maybe the girl was homeless. She certainly looked tired and grimy enough.

"Do you live around here?" Deeks asked, probably wondering the same thing. The girl have a half-shrug.

"With my aunt, in the trailer park. I work out at the airstrip. Was about to go to work today, but then it started snowing." She sighed. "God, I need some more money."

"Doesn't everyone?"

The girl let out a cheerless laugh. Kensi could see their bus approaching in the distance. It was old, smelling of sweat and old socks. They boarded; the teenage girl took a seat behind them. Kensi knew that she would listen raptly in on any conversation held. Sure enough, as soon as they were moving along the dark highway, the girl leaned forwards.

"Are you guys, like, married or something?"

"No." Kensi and Deeks spoke in unison, Kensi a little too sharply. The girl smirked. They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Kensi could see, through the window, the lights of a town moving past, and soon afterwards the bus ground to a halt. She was glad when they stepped off, into the icy air.

The girl tapped Deeks's shoulder as she exited.

"If you give me ten dollars, I'll suck yo—"

"Stop." Deeks looked suddenly sad. "Get lost kid. Go get work as a waitress or something."

"Jesus." Kensi muttered. That girl, with her lank hair and dirty clothes, said a lot about the little town on the edge of the wilderness: without speaking, she had told them of the hopelessness, the slow decline into snowy nothingness.

"She'd whore herself out for five bucks." Deeks removed his gloves, blew into them for no apparent reason, and watched the girl lope away. He shook his head. "That's how one of the friends turned out, you know. Saw her a few years after graduation, walking around Encino in a leather miniskirt. It was two AM. Little wonder."

Kensi wasn't sure how to reply, so she changed the subject. "Hetty gave me directions to the house from..." She unfolded the wrinkled sheet of paper and read aloud. "From the first bus bench, find the Coin-Op Laundry." She paused for a moment. "Hetty said that a cab service runs out of the back garage. We should take a cab to the edge of Reskin Woods and follow the trail to the house."

"The hell kind of directions are those?" Deeks questioned none-too-quietly. "'Follow the trail'? She honestly couldn't think of anything a little more _clear_?"

"Maybe not." Kensi shuffled her way through the growing snow drifts that lined the streets; flakes clung to her eyelashes and clothing. Her cheeks were numb with cold. She certainly hadn't expected this much snow within hours of arriving. Then again, nothing about this mission had turned out as planned so far. As Kensi stepped into the dim garage, searching for a sign of life, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

* * *

><p>The taxi took them to the edge of town, windows frosted up and motor rattling alarmingly. Kensi and Deeks all but huddled in the backseat, inhaling stale air. Everything smelled of cigarette smoke. The cabbie was old and, from what Kensi could gather, fairly irritable. He sped them through the town, past rows of rundown buildings and shabby houses. In the quickly-falling snow, Kensi saw a trailer court and deserted playground.<p>

After what felt like an eternity of lurching over the bumpy roads and skidding over-so-slightly on the thin sheet of ice, the cabbie stopped. Kensi rubbed a clear spot on the foggy window and found that they were idling at the edge of a looming forest. It was not so much the height of the trees—they weren't exceedingly tall at all—but rather the density of their bare branches. It didn't look like a very friendly place, but she didn't say so.

"Thank you," Kensi said, digging a ten-dollar bill from her wallet. "For the ride."

The cabbie grunted in reply, found her a few bucks in change, and handed them over. As soon as they grabbed their backpacks and bags, he sped away, the engine coughing and grumbling in the cold air.

"Well." Kensi sighed. Her breath clouded before her face. "I guess we'll just..."

"Follow the trail." Deeks muttered. He sounded less than thrilled about this, and Kensi remembered how he had complained endlessly in the desert while they chased down kidnapped Marines. She rolled her eyes, scouting silently for a trail.

It didn't take long to find—the snow had fallen over what must have once been a path. They followed it a ways into the woods, until Deeks was complaining about his leg hurting and his face freezing. At last, Kensi spotted the house—a tiny cabin huddled in the middle of the forest. The roof was covered with snow, the walls seemed sturdy enough.

"That's the safehouse." Deeks sounded disbelieving. "_That's_ the safehouse?" He scoffed, as if to say _are you kidding me_ and blazed a trail to the front door. "Yeah, we'll be real easy to find out here. I'll be shocked if, I don't know, our informant _gets lost and dies in the middle of the friggin' woods_!"

"Calm down." Kensi rolled her eyes, fishing in her pocket for the key that Hetty had given her. It turned easily in the lock, and she pushed open the front door.

The house was small—a tiny main room with a wood stove and a sink, and a bathroom. Everything smelled musty. Kensi was the first to investigate the bedroom, Deeks hot on her heels. They stood in the doorway for a moment, silent.

"There's only one bed."

"I'll take the couch." Deeks said quickly. Kensi fought the urge to roll her eyes again.

"Deeks, there _is _no couch."

A moment of silence passed between them. Kensi realized, with an unpleasant sinking sensation, that this could very well mean two whole months of sharing a bed with Deeks. The thought was far from cheering.

"We can share the bed, then." He tossed his backpack on the floor. "At least there's running water, ha ha."

"Deeks, I'm not sleeping with you for two months." Then, seeing his expression, "I mean _sharing a bed _with you."

"We're partners." He didn't seem fazed. "This is what partners do. We share things."

"But not _beds_." Kensi mumbled, knowing how stupid it sounded. "Some things weren't meant to be shared between partners."

Deeks didn't reply. Kensi didn't know if he agreed or not. She had a feeling that he leaned towards the latter.

* * *

><p>Darkness fell soon—Kensi's watch read four o'clock. She had shoved her scant belongings into the top drawer of the bedroom's dresser. Deeks had taken only half a drawer. This surprised Kensi, who had assumed that he would overpack. She wrapped her thinnest shirt (wouldn't be needing <em>that<em> in this cold) around the bottles of vodka and hoped that Deeks had forgotten about her buying them.

At five o'clock, she dug the satellite phone out of her backpack and called the OSP, hoping to talk with Hetty, Sam or Callen. Instead, it was Eric who answered.

"Kensi!" He sounded thrilled to hear from her, as if she had been gone weeks instead of only a day. "How's Alaska?"

"Cold." She paced in the tiny front room, shivering. Deeks had collected some wood, but most of it was rotten. Kensi vowed to drill better survival skills into him over the next two months.

"Sounds like it. Give me LA sun anytime, ha ha."

"No kidding." Kensi moved closer to the fireplace, where smoke was curling up through the chimney. "Uh, is Hetty there?"

"Is she ever _not _here?"

"Touché." Kensi muttered. Eric bid her goodbye—and good luck—and transferred her to Hetty. The director answered with a crisp "Agent Blye"

"Hetty!" Kensi felt relieved to be speaking to her boss. At least she could ask Hetty some questions now. "We got here safely. Everything's great—"

"Except this stupid, freezing safehouse!" Deeks shouted from across the room. Kensi shot him a glare.

"I was just wondering when..."

...

When Kensi hung up a half hour later, she had still only gathered the essential facts.

"We'll meet with our informant in exactly twenty-four hours." She told Deeks, seated cross-legged on the bed. He was leaning against the creaky headboard. "But he won't be able to give us the microchip the first time. Hetty didn't say why, but..."

"At least it's a start." Deeks said. Kensi nodded. Outside, the cold night pressed closely around the little house. As wimpy as it sounded, she was very glad that Deeks was there with her. He was good company, if not exceedingly annoying. Beyond the grimy windows, a cold wind howled. Kensi felt greatly unsettled by this; restless and fearful.

She changed from work clothes into a pair of flannel pants and a thick sweatshirt. At the rate that this cold was seeping in, she was going to have to sleep in her parka. Kensi figured that after spending her entire life in LA, she had grown used to the often pervasive heat. This cold, this horrible, gnawing cold, was something that she would never become accustomed to.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Deeks pushed himself off of the bed. "Guess I should change, too." Before Kensi could reply, he had turned his back and stripped off his shirt. She almost looked away but didn't. A thin scar traced its way across one of his shoulder blades and down his back. Kensi guessed that it was from work. It had been painful, that injury.

"Being a cop isn't all shiny badges and hot chicks, huh?"

He smirked, turned around. "What?"

"Your scar."

"Oh." A shadow fell across his face. "That one's from my dad."

Kensi didn't ask how, or why, but Deeks supplied the answer.

"Broken wine bottle. I was ten years old." He sounded terse, and Kensi felt her heart clench. She had known about Deeks's past for a while—his abusive father, the fights, the time that the elder Deeks had fired a shotgun at his son. She must have known that he had scars—who could get through a childhood like that without them? Somehow, though, seeing that white scar along his shoulder made her hurt for him.

"I..." Kensi busied herself with the phone. She wrapped the cord around her finger a few times, not really sure of what to say. "I'm sorry, Deeks."

He too turned away, pulling another shirt over his head. When he turned back, his face was set, a tight smile curving his lips.

"Don't be."

**Hope that this chapter was long enough (but not _too_ long!) And I hope that you all enjoyed reading it! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**So..how are you guys liking this fic so far? Is the plot too confusing? Do y'all like where it's headed? Feel free to send me a PM or leave a message in a review!**

Chapter Four

At midnight, Kensi decided to turn in. She was exhausted after the plane ride, although she was determined not to appear weary or worn-out. She had claimed the shower first, and Deeks had followed her. At least, he said, there was running water. Kensi agreed.

"By the way," Deeks commented as he changed his shirt yet again. "I used some of your shampoo."

Kensi rolled her eyes. "You used my Juicy Citrus shampoo?"

"It smells great." Deeks gave his head an animated shake, like maybe he was attempting to rid his ears of water. Another reason that he and Monty were similar, Kensi thought, and she couldn't help but smile. At least she had company out here, in the lonely dark woods. And she trusted Deeks. They were partners. This was what partners did—they looked out for each other.

"What side of the bed do you sleep on?" Deeks asked, stripping off his pants. Kensi looked away. Her partner might be wearing boxers, which were technically shorts and therefore it wasn't completely creepy to stare...but still. She didn't want to get caught oggling Deeks. She could imagine him taunting her for the next two months about it.

"Depends, I guess. I'm not picky." He was kind, Kensi thought. Deeks might be annoying as hell, but he had a good heart. Jesus. That sounded like something her grandmother would say.

"I'll take the right side." He offered, and Kensi was glad. It was the side closest to the windows, and the thought of sleeping beneath the cold glass frightened her, in a strange way. She slid between the thick blankets, glad that they smelled only slightly of must. At least they had warmth, if only for tonight. Kensi turned out the light and moments later the bedsprings creaked as Deeks climbed into bed next to her. It was a small bed, and she found herself closer to him than she had expected.

It was not entirely unpleasant, Kensi thought as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>The trip of north had taken every ounce of energy out of her. Kensi slept deeply for the first time in nearly a week, curled up in the warm bed. When she woke, it was mid-morning and snow was falling fast beyond the window. That was the first thing that she realized after waking up: the falling snow. And seconds later, she realized that she was curled up next to someone. Curled up very <em>close<em> next to someone.

Deeks.

Mind still cloudy with sleep, Kensi shot backwards, squinting. She had practically been sprawled on Deeke's chest. He was awake. Smirking.

"You were watching me _sleep_?" Kensi climbed clumsily out of bed, grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste. "Okay, I get the whole 'nice-creepy' thing you've got going, Deeks, but that's just _creepy_ creepy."

"Hey! I didn't think that you were going to wake up anytime soon!"

"How does that make it okay?" Kensi brushed her teeth at lightening speed. "You've reached level, like, ten-thousand creepy, Deeks."

"I love you too, Kensi."

She rolled her eyes, sighing animatedly. Kensi liked the banter that they had, that easy back-and-forth. It seemed funny enough, witty, laid-back, but underneath she knew that she and Deeks could trust one another with each other's lives. It was something that she loved about their partnership—how quickly they had learned to trust each other.

* * *

><p>Noon came and went. Kensi became antsy.<p>

"Shouldn't our informant be here by now?" She paced under the window. "He's late. Really late."

"I'm sure that it's fine." Deeks said. Kensi noted, in the back of her mind, that it was usually Deeks stressing out about something and her doing the reassuring, rolling her eyes and telling him to calm down, that it would all be okay in the end.

"Yeah? Well, I don't know. Hetty should have given us a phone number."

"Well, she didn't." Deeks sounded terse; irritable. As if something was eating at him, too. "All we can do is wait."

"This doesn't feel—"Kensi began, but fell silent. There was no use stirring up trouble now, not when she and Deeks had another damned two months out here, trapped in the wilderness with nothing but snow and trees and quiet. "Nevermind."

Deeks went over to the little table to fiddle around with his radio. It picked up static. He cursed under his breath, twisted the knobs around a little.

"You trying to pick up KROQ?" Kensi thought fondly of LA's rock n'roll radio station, a favorite when she and Deeks were driving. It brought back memories of her childhood and teenage days, however painful and awkward they might be.

"No." Deeks snapped, then sighed. "Uh, I don't know. Anything, really. Even, like, opera, at this point."

"You don't listen to opera." Kensi laughed. She couldn't imagine anything more un-Deeks-like. Opera. "You like...hard rock. I bet you were a metal-head in high school."

"I wasn't." Deeks said, a little too quickly. Kensi flopped down in the other chair, laughing.

"You totally were! I can see it now—you wore one of those stupid denim jackets, right? And combat boots?"

"I went through a...phase...in ninth grade." Deeks rolled his eyes. "Before that, though, it was all grunge. Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam..." He sounded wistful. "And the oldies, of course. Metallica, Zeppelin—God, when did rock die?"

"Maybe never." Kensi said. Deeks nodded, his eyes meeting hers for a brief, electric moment. "What about you? What did you dig in high school?"

"Rock," Kensi admitted. "I went through this weird phase where I really loved death metal. Norwegian. Heavy stuff. It lasted for about two weeks."

Deeks laughed. Kensi smiled, but she knew that it didn't quite reach her eyes. She had loved that death metal because it was angry, harsh. Gave her a headache to listen to it, and she never really liked it all that much. Her dad had died a few weeks ago. She needed an escape, an outlet. Deeks didn't need to know that, though, so Kensi just smiled and rolled her eyes.

Things would change soon, she thought. Alone, together...sooner or later, they would wind up knowing each other better. Kensi just hoped that she didn't have to get to know Deeks _too_ well.

**A/N: I am so, so sorry that it took about a million years to publish this! The internet in my area crashed, and it's been pretty sketchy ever since. But never fear—another chapter is on the way, dear readers! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so, so much to all of those who have reviewed so far! Thank you for being kind and understanding even when I neglected to update for about a million years! I'm so glad that all of you out in internet-land have been enjoying this story! Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA!**

Chapter Five

Kensi lasted another two days before she broke out the alcohol. While Deeks hunkered over the table, muttering to himself and fussing over the radio and satellite phone, she crept silently into the bedroom and dug out the vodka bottles. The glass was cold under her palms. She flirted briefly with the idea of ducking into the bathroom and taking a couple of swigs, but decided against it. God knows that Deeks would be pounding on the door in no time, demanding to know why she had been in there so long.

Thus, it was with a slightly heavy heart that she strolled into the tiny living room with the bottle. "Want some?"

Deeks, whose mumblings had taken on a certain tone of madness, glanced up. His eyes fell upon the vodka and widened. "I thought you would never ask!"

Kensi scooted out the adjoining chair. "You saw my vodka? Though I hid them pretty well..."

"I was a cop for a long time, Kenz." Deeks said, and for once she didn't roll her eyes at his use of her nickname. "I can detect alcohol within a ten mile radius."

"Huh." Kensi couldn't help but smile, just a little. She opened the bottle, the glass still cold beneath her fingertips. The first ceremonious swig felt good. It burned a fiery path to her stomach. Deeks reached for the bottle.

"Not so fast, surfer boy." She took another swig; longer, then handed the bottle over. Kensi watched Deeks drink and wondered, briefly, what the hell she was thinking. But then again, she reminded herself, their contact hadn't showed, and a storm was raging outside. Might as well get smashed while she still could.

* * *

><p>They passed the bottle back and forth for a while, and it wasn't long before Kensi felt warm and content. She was no lightweight—she was certain, in fact, that if it came down to it, she could drink Deeks under the table. Kensi didn't say so. What she did say was,<p>

"You know, if you share a bottle with someone, it's like making out with them." Where the hell had that little factoid come from? It sounded like something that a tipsy teenager would blurt out a high school party. Lame.

"Want to test that theory out?" Deeks winked. Kensi slapped his arm.

"Gross. No." _Maybe_, a little voice inside her head murmured. She silenced it quickly. Turned her attention back to the bottle.

Another ten minutes and they were starting to feel the cheap vodka's effect.

"Want to play Truth or Dare?" Deeks leaned across the table, smirking.

"Are we in elementary school?"

"No."

"Than no." Kensi titled the bottle against her lips. "I'll tell you something. This is one hell of a job we've got here."

"I know." Deeks laughed. His words sounded sort of funny. Far away, almost. Kensi laughed, too, even though nothing had struck her as humorous. "I know."

"This why you became a cop, Deeks? So you could get drunk with chicks?"

He laughed again. "Maybe." Then his face fell a little. "I grew up kind of rough. Dad uses you as a punching bag for eighteen years, you find yourself wanting to give another kid a better chance. A better life, I guess. It's stupid, really."

"It's not." Kensi found herself leaning towards him, as if drawn forwards by some invisible magnet. "I think it's good. It's brave. Honor, and courage, and all that jazz."

"Ha ha." Deeks took the bottle. "All that jazz, yeah." He drank. "How about you?"

"My, uh, my dad." Even a little tipsy, she was eager to avoid this subject. "He was a Marine. It wasn't the life I wanted, being in the Corps. But protecting them—that I liked the idea of."

"That's honorable, too." Deeks said, and smiled. She liked that smile. It was a nice, nice smile. Oh, God. She was_ so _drunk.

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed between them, and then suddenly Kensi was leaning across the corner of the table, leaning over a pressing her mouth against her partner's. And she expected him to pull away, but he didn't. Instead, Deeks pulled her to her feet, and they kissed drunkenly again.

"Kensi..." Deeks whispered against her lips, and when he said that her heart skipped a beat. This was stupid. This was wrong. They shouldn't be doing this. But Deeks was kissing her so fervently, and she was backed up against the wall, and his body was warm and pressed to hers so tightly.

Her fingers were inching towards the hem of his shirt, and his hand was moving up her stomach, when the both paused, as if listening to an unheard cue. And then, just like that, Kensi realized how stupid she was being.

She was acting like a frisky collage student, drunk out of her mind and high on pheromones. She shouldn't be—Deeks was her partner, for God's sake! Her _partner_! They would regret this, they would regret this so very much.

"Sorry." Deeks whispered, and Kensi could see in his bright eyes how much he wanted to keep going. Maybe part of her wanted that, too. Maybe. But not tonight.

"It's—" Kensi swallowed hard. "Fine. Uh, I just gotta go—" And she stumbled away, into the bathroom, marveling at the fact that she could walk straight. Her hands were shaking. Kensi slumped against the shower's tiny stall, tears sudden in her eyes. She forced them away, angry at herself. This wasn't the tough, witty, give-em-hell Kensi Blye that took down criminals for a living. This was weepy-drunk, desperate-for-love Kensi Blye who threw herself at her partner and cried when things didn't work out. This wasn't _her_.

She stood there for a long time, swiping hot tears from her face and coughing loudly to show Deeks that she was still alive in there. After a while she slid down to the tile floor and leaned against the sink, staring blankly into empty space. She would have to come out eventually, but not yet.

Not yet.

**A/N: So...how did you all like it? Good? Bad? Ugly? Whatever your opinions are, leave 'em in a review! :D Another chapter is in progress, and will be up shortly! *More Densi to follow* (Or 'Keeks', whatever floats your boat!)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is chapter six! Hope y'all like it! :D**

Chapter Six

Kensi was woken rather unpleasantly by a harsh knocking on the bathroom door. She started violently, jumped like a cat, and whacked her head painfully against the side of the shower. Damn.

_Where am I?_ She blinked, registering pale light through a grimy window. A toilet, shower, sink. Toothbrush on the floor, next to a shampoo bottle. She'd knocked them over in her sleep, most likely. Kensi struggled to her feet. Her back was stiff, her neck aching. Her mouth felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton balls during the night, and her eyes itched something awful. The worst was her headache; she could feel it building, throbbing, promising pain for at least the rest of the morning.

"Kensi, you okay in there? Still alive?"

"Deeks." She grabbed her toothbrush and squeezed what looked like half of her toothpaste onto it. Her tongue felt heavy. When she glanced in the mirror, Kensi all but gaped. Her dark hair had frizzed overnight, a wild rat's nest of tangles. Her eyes, usually penetratingly blue, were underscored by unsightly dark circles.

_I look like a party girl. Awesome._ Kensi wished so very much that she had grabbed a shirt and clean jeans before ducking into the bathroom, but instead she was still clad in last night's white undershirt and sweatpants. Groaning aloud, she unlocked the door and pushed her way through. Even the minimal sunlight streaming through the house's filthy windows was blinding. Everything was glowing a hard, painful white. Kensi blinked and rubbed her eyes, goosebumps raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The house was freezing—artic-circle-in-the-middle-of-a-blizzard freezing. It was a miracle that she hadn't freaking frozen to death last night! And to make matters worse, Deeks was pacing in front of the wide-open front door. Snow had piled up on the steps overnight, pressing coldly against the windows.

"What the hell are you doing, Deeks?" Kensi asked. Actually, it came out sounding a little more like, "Th'ellareyoudoin'eeks?"

"This." He thrust at her a sheet of paper. "Pinned to the front door this morning."

How was he not dead on his feet? Kensi noted dark circles under Deeks's eyes, but otherwise he was none worse for the wear. She rolled her eyes, glanced at the sheet of paper. It was slightly blurry.

"Agent Blye and Deeks." She read aloud. The handwriting was definitely sub-par. "I'm coming."

She paused, waiting for Deeks to make a crass 'that's what she said' joke.

"Who's this from?" She spoke around the feeling of cotton in her mouth. "From our contact?"

"I don't know." Deeks appeared greatly agitated; more so than Kensi had seen him lately. "But whoever it is...they're coming for us." He paused, then added quickly, as if he couldn't resist. "That'swhatshesaid."

"Deeks..." Kensi rolled her eyes, but secretly she had missed funny, inappropriate Deeks. Kensi felt that she was the serious partner. Deeks was the plucky comic relief. "Anyways—this could be good. Our contact is finally making, well, contact."

"Yeah." Deeks didn't seem convinced. A long, tense moment of silence passed between them. Deeks seemed on the verge of saying something. He finally coughed quietly.

"So...uh, I think we should talk about last..." Another pause. "Last night."

"What about it?" Kensi knew that she was hungover. She knew that she and Deeks had gotten pretty wasted last night—she could remember, very hazily, drinking and talking. And then waking up in the bathroom. She figured that she'd stumbled in there to shower or pee or something, and ended up conking out by the sink. Stupid of her, of course, but harmless.

"Uh..." Deeks was staring at her, his sharp blue eyes meeting hers. Kensi stared back, unsure of how to respond. "You don't...remember?"

That's when it hit her. _Oh, God. What the hell did I do last night? Was it something really stupid? Like dancing on a table? Or just awkward, like bringing up some weird memory from high school? Why does Deeks remember so well? What happened?_

It was best, Kensi decided, to play along. Pretend that she hadn't forgotten.

"Oh. That." She forced a casual smile. "We all do stupid, awkward stuff when we're drunk, right?"

"Uh," Deeks looked surprised. "Yeah. Yeah, we do." He was watching her closely. Kensi shrugged, turned away, all business.

The way that Deeks was looking at her made her uneasy. It was as if, Kensi thought, he knew something that she didn't. Which bothered her. A lot.

If it had nothing to do with their mission, she decided, it wasn't important enough to worry about. Still, Deeks kept up with the weird behavior until well into the afternoon, when Kensi finally turned on him.

"Look," She began, as Deeks began to write down Hetty's instructions on a scrap of paper. "Did I do something _wrong_ last night?"

Deeks started, as if Kensi had pinched him, and eyed her with a decidedly pained expression.

"Hey, if I did, all you had to do was say something..."

Silence. Then Deeks muttered,

"Nothing. Forget it."

Kensi stood, agitated. "Don't say that."

"Why? You obviously don't care." Deeks glared at her, owlish.

"Maybe I don't." Kensi snapped, not caring if she sounded like a grade-schooler. Deeks grimaced. He actually looked wounded, like Kensi had slapped him or something.

"I just figured that you would take what we did more seriously."

That was when Kensi started to wonder. A sharp twinge of concern started up in her stomach. Well, crap. What really went down last night?

Kensi nearly questioned her partner as to what, exactly, had happened. Then she remembered that Deeks thought that she knew. Great.

"I don't think that I _need_ to take it seriously."

"That's stupid!" Deeks tossed the pen aside. "Really, Kensi? I know that you're kind of a hard-ass, but—"

"Excuse me?" Kensi yelped. Her partner had struck a nerve. It was fine for Kensi to consider herself a hard-ass, but when _Deeks_ said it...

"Yeah—I mean, after all those months, all those looks and flirting and—"

"Who said anything about flirting?" Kensi was half-yelling.

"You did! I mean, you didn't—but we did—we—"

"What did we do?" Kensi cried, then snapped her mouth shut. She resisted the urge to slap a hand to her lips, tell Deeks that she remembered, that she hadn't gotten so wasted that last night's events had slipped from her memory.

Deeks was standing now, his chair pushed aside.

"This." He said, and kissed her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! I'm so, so sorry that it took so terribly long—I've been moving between houses, and staying with other people (who have really slow internet!) but here's the next chapter! I initially planned to put off the romance, but then I figured that you all waited so long that I'd be lucky if you all had forgotten about this fic, so here's some romance! :D Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA.**

Chapter Seven

Deeks. His lips pressed against hers, everything warm and the smell of smoke from the fire, and his arms around her. For one moment, it was all pure bliss.

Then Kensi realized what was happening.

"Deeks!" She pushed him away, stepped backwards. Nearly stumbled over the rumpled rug. "What the hell, Deeks?"

"That's what happened, Kensi!" Deeks dragged a hand through his hair. "God, you don't remember any of that?"

"I was wasted, Deeks." Kensi felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I was drunk. I was stupid."

She half-expected Deeks to kiss her again, but instead he just grabbed the sheet of paper. "You're right."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They stood like that for a moment, tense, watching each other. Then the silence was broken by the crunch of feet on snow and ice; Deeks grabbed his gun. For one frantic moment, Kensi was unarmed, her weapon somewhere in the room, out of reach—Deeks pressed her gun into her hand a moment later. Kensi didn't ask where he had found it. Together, they moved towards the door. The knock came seconds later, followed by a high, nervous voice.

"Uh..." A throat was cleared. "Hey. Um...so, I'm your contact. Please open the door. It's really cold out here. Uh..."

Deeks opened the door slowly, weapon first. Their contact all but stumbled in, blinking at their guns. He was pale, reedy-looking, with wide eyes and yellow, crooked teeth, and a thin frame. Short reddish-brown hair. His eyes roved the room, never meeting Kensi's.

"You're three days late." Deeks didn't holster his gun. "What the hell happened?"

"I..." The man faltered. "Hey, guys, can you put those away? I'm one of the good guys. Not a criminal."

Neither agent moved.

"Fine." Red-hair shrugged. He looked shifty, Kensi thought. The type of person that you couldn't trust. "I got snowed in. My cabin is really far out in the woods. I had to dig myself out. Then I got confused—some weirdo from the NCIS field office told me the wrong meeting date." Then, as if automatically, "It's not my fault."

"Sure it's not." Kensi lowered her gun a fraction of an inch. "What's your name?"

"Robert." He adjusted a stained parka. "Smith. Robert Smith."

"Okay." Deeks and Kensi shared a quick, meaningful glance. "You're ex-Navy?"

"I worked in Intelligence. Anchorage." Robert heaved a loud sigh. "Look, I'm just supposed to talk with you guys about this...thing..."

"The microchip?" Deeks prompted. Robert shrugged again, then nodded.

"Yeah."

"When can you get it to us?"

"Tomorrow. The field office said that I had to confirm that you were really NCIS before I handed it over. They said that someone else might try to grab it."

"Okay, sure." Deeks seemed unconvinced. Kensi fought the urge to ask '_who, a moose?'_. It didn't seem likely that some other agents were camped out in this hicktown, waiting for Robert to drop by with a microchip.

"They did!" Robert said loudly. Kensi and Deeks shared another meaningful glance. "Look, I don't know any more than you guys!"

"Well, that's reassuring." Deeks muttered. "What are you, ex-Navy?"

Robert froze for a moment, as if trying to remember. "Yeah. I flew airplanes—fighter jets, over the ocean."

"Okay." Kensi sighed. "Let's talk about this..."

"I have to go now." Robert said quickly. "I'm late for something."

"What, the town dogsled races?" Deeks quipped. Kensi threw him a _shut up_ glance.

"But you'll be back tomorrow, right?"

Robert nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay," Robert called over his shoulder as he all but fled through the front door. It slammed behind him, flakes of snow drifting through the still air, melting as soon as they touched the floor. Kensi sat on the couch. Deeks paced.

"Something's off about him." She mumbled.

"Yeah." Deeks agreed.

They sat in silence for a moment, and Kensi felt a familiar tension building between them. Even when she _wasn't_ drunk, Deeks was starting to look sort of...attractive. His hair, and his eyes, and the way that he walked and talked.

_Cabin fever_, Kensi silently diagnosed. She still couldn't believe that Deeks had kissed her. Or that she had kissed him, swept up in a drunken stupor last night. The thought alone was horrifying.

Deeks was still pacing.

"I'm going to go take a shower." Kensi said, and left the room before things became even more awkward.

* * *

><p><em>They were running. Kensi in front, Deeks close behind her, their boots crunching through deep snow. Something was chasing them—or was it some<em>one_? Kensi's breath burned hot in her throat, terror cold in her veins._

_"Run, Deeks!" She cried, the words jagged. Deeks gasped something in reply._

_"Come one, faster!" Kensi moaned. "Faster, Deeks!"_

_The thing was closing in on them—closer, closer. Deeks's scream rent the air—it had him!_

_Kensi was froze, watching as a man in a parka pressed a gun to Deeks' head. The shot echoed in the silent, snowy woods. She screamed. Deeks fell like a rag doll, lay still on the snow. The man looked up, his face cast in white light._

_Robert._

_"No!" She screamed, and suddenly there was a gun in her hand. She fired without thinking—Robert crumpled, Deeks sat up, shaking his head like a dog trying to rid its ears of water._

_"Yes!" Kensi was half-crying, half-laughing as she stumbled towards him, breathing hard. "Oh, God, Deeks!"_

_"What?" He rubbed his head._

_"I—"_

_"Kensi!" He said. Loud. "Kensi, wake up!"_

_"What?" She stepped back. It wasn't Deeks who was talking._

"Kensi, wake up!" Someone prodded her gently; Kensi woke with a start. She was sprawled in the bed, and Deeks was standing over her with a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Jesus, Deeks!" She sat up, stretching. "I was sleeping!"

"Oh, I know." Deeks winked.

"What?" Kensi glared at him.

"You were having a sexy dream about me."

"I was having a sexy—what the _hell_ are you talking about?" Kensi suddenly felt the need to cover herself.

"_Faster, Deeks! Faster!"_ Deeks screamed in a shrill voice. "_Oh, God, Deeks!"_ He let out a high moan, then broke out laughing. "Sounded racy. Tell me, who was on to—"

"Oh, my God!" Kensi pitched a pillow at him. "Shut up! I had a dream that Robert _shot you_, Deeks. Jesus."

"Sure you did." Deeks strolled away, still laughing. Kensi sat on the bed and fumed silently. She cast a weary glance at the pad of paper beside the bed. Every night, she made a little tick mark.

They still had almost two months to go.

Jesus.

**Hey guys! Hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! If you have read thus far...thank you! The next chapter shall contain romance (perhaps kissing, perhaps more...) Have any suggestions, questions, comments? Tell me in a review, or send a PM my way! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, all! Between finals and the start of the holidays and training horses and life in general, I haven't gotten around to this fic very much—you all have my sincere apologies for that. To make up for it, I've included cute fluffy romantic moments in this chapter that will make you all want to go snuggle with a puppy. Or a small kitten. I hope. Anyways, here it is! :) Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA!**

Chapter Eight

"He should be here by now." Kensi said, pushing the little wire brush in and out of her Glock's barrel. She had settled down at the kitchen table to clean her gun, drawing slightly apprehensive looks from Deeks. "Don't worry—I won't shoot you. I'm not _that_ desperate." She paused, then added, "Not yet, at least."

"Ha, ha." Deeks rolled his eyes and twitched the dirty curtains aside. A snowy vista stretched beyond the window, utterly devoid of human life. The trees were large and looming and silent, everything draped in deep quiet snow. It was unsettling, really, the utter silence. Deeks went and sat down the beat-up couch, folded his arms, then rose suddenly and commenced pacing yet again. His agitation was contagious.

"Robert Smith." Kensi broached the subject first; at the sound of their informant's name Deeks twitched.

"Something's weird about him. Really. Something's off."

"But what?" Kensi jabbed the wire brush into the barrel again.

"I don't know," Deeks said uneasily. "I can't put my finger on it."

"Yeah." Kensi agreed quietly. She finished cleaning the Glock, reloaded it, holstered. Outside, a light dusting of snow had begun to fall.

"We need more firewood." Deeks poked through their scant fuel stack—mostly smaller branches collected from the snow outside the little house. The pile had grown considerably smaller, because every night they lit a fire in the fireplace to keep the house warm, and every morning there was a lot less wood in the stack beside the front door.

"I'll help you get some." Kensi said. Deeks snickered.

"Get some _firewood_, Deeks. Firewood." She snapped, and shrugged on her parka. They left the house in silence, Deeks still smirking. The two agents trekked through ankle-deep snow, shivering. Wind had kicked up, chilling Kensi to the bone. She had forgotten a scarf but had (luckily) worn a lurid green woolen hat.

"It's so...quiet." Kensi whispered, hunching her shoulders against the wind. No birds sang, no small animals scurried through the brush. Kensi's thoughts were a million miles away, in Los Angeles. The quiet trails in Topanga Canyon, or the Santa Monica Mountains, where you could run for hours beneath a hot blue sky, down narrow dirt paths surrounded by squat oak trees and tangled shrubs, everything warm and smelling soothingly of sun and dirt.

"I hate this damn place." Deeks said suddenly. "Damn _Alaska._ Who the hell does Hetty think that we are? Jack freakin' London?"

Kensi did not reply. She had frozen, mittened hands drifting towards her gun. "Did you just—"

But before she could speak, a great force slammed Kensi sideways. She fell hard, rolling in the dirty snow. Deeks was on the ground, too, and someone was crouching over her, going for her gun.

"HEY!" Kensi screamed, her throat burning. "Stop!" She aimed a kick at her attacker—a well-aimed kick reenforced by her heavy boot. The figure yelped and staggered backwards; Kensi whipped out her gun, pointed it. A man in a ski mask—or was it a woman? She couldn't tell. The masked figure swung, catching her in the eye; blood reddened her vision. Kensi blinked it away, felt its warmth on her cheek. A sick warmth. Deeks was on his feet, grabbing the attacker from behind. They struggled—whoever this mystery-attacker was, they were good. She was about to pull the trigger, about to fell him, or her, or _it_, when the masked figure lunged, pushed her backwards, and sprinted away. Deeks was hot on their heels, but quickly fell behind. He returned panting and helped Kensi to her feet.

"What," Deeks queried not-so-gently, "The _hell_ was that about?"

"I don't know." Kensi holstered her weapon, wiping blood from her eye. "But this isn't good."

"No kidding." Deeks said, and they headed back in brooding silence.

* * *

><p>A few dozen yards until they reached the little house, and a bitter wind picked up. Kensi kept close to her partner's side, attempting to share some discreet body heat—without saying so, of course, because she was sure that Deeks would gleefully suggest <em>another<em> way to share body heat.

"It's freaking _freezing_." Deeks complained, and tugged on his hat. He had been clever enough to wear a warm scarf, but had neglected his warmest coat in favor of a thinner one. Stupid, but they hadn't expected this sudden...

Snowstorm. This sudden snowstorm. Kensi knew a brewing storm, despite having lived in sunnier climates for most of her life. This was, without a doubt, an approaching blizzard.

"Deeks," She said urgently. "Deeks, hurry up."

"What?" He froze (of course, Kensi thought angrily) and drew his gun. Assuming a stance of authority, Deeks aimed for the trees.

"Are you chasing us, you bastards? Huh?" He lifted the gun higher. "Where are they, Kenz?"

"Nowhere," Kensi grabbed his arm and began to pull him along. "Unless you're hoping to shoot out a snowstorm."

"What?" A look of panic came into Deeks' eyes. Around them, the snow was picked up by the strong, bitter wind, scooped mercilessly into whirlwinds. Kensi could barely see two feet in front of her. Her exposed skin stung horribly—like fire, she reflected. "Oh, God."

"Calm down!" Kensi ordered, sensing that Deeks was about to break into another monologue about the sheer _stupidity _of the Alaskan wilderness. She dragged him forwards a few yards, then froze. "Shit."

"Wow," Deeks said brightly. "You never really swear, Kensi."

"Shut up." Kensi fought off encroaching panic. "Shut up, I swear."

"What's wrong?" Deeks squinted, peering through the blizzard. "Jesus, it's freezing. This is legit."

"Deeks..." Kensi swallowed hard. Her throat felt raw. "I think we're lost. Where's the house?"

"I..." Deeks let out a funny croaking sound. "I don't know." He fell silent. Kensi's mind was going a thousand miles an hour—her father had taught her almost everything she knew about winter survival—and once, on a weekend camping trip, he had touched briefly on the subject of blizzard survival. She tried to remember.

_Seek shelter. Stay dry. If you're wet, get dry. Build a fire._ But how? There was no dry wood, and no matches. Nevermind, Kensi thought. Shelter would come first. She could recall her father's warm voice, his shining eyes so much like her own.

_I doubt you'll ever use this, Kenz_, _but building a snowcave could save your life._ They had been sitting around a little campfire in the mountains above Lancaster, California, a desert town. The air around them had been hotly dry, the ground dusty. Snowstorms and snowcaves and blizzards were a million miles away.

_Not anymore._ Kensi wasn't about to die in a blizzard, staggering through some distant, lonely backwoods. No way.

"We need to dig!" She shouted, miming digging motions at Deeks. He nodded once. He understood. Kensi was glad that at moments like this he could be half-serious—it was a useful trait.

They dug frantically, breathing hard. The snow was hard and cold, and the wind slashed at Kensi's exposed skin. She was more than relieved when their combined digging efforts turned out a little snowcave, the sort of thing MidWest schoolchildren would build on snowdays. She climbed inside, Deeks close behind, and they huddled in the cold gray darkness. Kensi became aware of tears on her cheeks. They were tears that the wind had torn from her eyes, not from sadness, but those memories of her father had brought back a certain hollow bitterness. She stared at her folded, gloved hands.

"Hey," Deeks whispered, his voice warm in her ear. "You okay?"

"I'm good, Deeks." She bit her lip. "God, for a minute there..."

"Thank the Lord for you, Kensi." Deeks grinned. "You're a genius."

"Not really."

"Without you, I'd be dead ten times over."

"Don't get too excited, Deeks." Outside the wind had picked up, was reaching some sort of freezing-cold fever pitch. "We're not out of the storm yet."

They stayed in a frozen silence for a few more minutes, and Kensi became increasingly cold. The snow cave was tiny, and ice pressed close above their heads. She shivered.

"If we die, Kensi," Deeks said, and his teeth were chattering.

"Stop," Kensi moaned, trembling.

"Hey," Deeks said, "We're gonna be okay. We've got each other."

Then he kissed her.

* * *

><p>For a moment, they were pressed close together, forgetting the ice and the raging storm and the possibility of death. Kensi lingered in that moment—she <em>lived<em> in it, that glorious moment when they were together, and everything was warm and bubbly and shining. She leaned into Deeks, into his embrace, and realized that they were kissing _hard_.

Then they broke apart. Kensi was breathing quickly; clouds of pearly air appeared and dissipated before her face. Deeks stared at her, his gaze so intense that it was unnerving. There was a moment of tense silence, and then Kensi kissed him again. She was leaning against him, and they were miles from the snowcave, miles from the danger and the mysterious masked attackers and the fear and the long cold nights. They were living in a sunny place under blue skies, where their skin was touching and her eyes were closed and the cold was there again, pressing against her back and neck.

Kensi's hands were in Deeks's hair, and his hands tangled in her, and the snowcave was suddenly very small and open to many possibilities, none of which Kensi loved the idea of. They broke apart again, and Kensi found herself grinning.

"That," She whispered, "That was..."

They both lay silence, close together in the gray darkness. Neither spoke. There was no need for words. Outside, the storm had lessened, and a slow, sweet silence fell.

**So...how did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Brought to tears by the sheer emotion that it conveyed? I jest, I jest...but if you have a superstrongneedtotellsomeone opinion about this chapter, leave it in a review! ^.^ And again...sorry that it took so darn long! :o**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! I'm glad that you're all digging the story so far! Writing it is really fun, and I hope that reading it is, too! Just a warning: this chapter contains mild profanity, so if you happen to be an innocent child reading this (unlikely, but y'know...) shield your eyes! :) Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA.**

Chapter Nine

They staggered home through a wasteland of snow. Everything was brilliantly, blinding white—it was painful to allow your eyes to linger in one place for too long. Kensi recalled hearing about 'snow blindness', a conditioned obtained by staring too long at the sun's reflection on snow. She warned Deeks, wishing that she had brought sunglasses.

"It would be a shame if you got snow blindness, Kensi." He quipped, throwing her a lopsided grin. "You'd miss my beautiful face."

Although Deeks sounded lighthearted, Kensi knew that they were both in trouble. Their clothing was soaking wet, and the subzero temperature was only detrimental. Kensi could hear Deeks's chattering teeth, and realized that her own were clacking together. She could not _wait_ to thaw out in the warmth of the little house.

The house. Its shape came into focus, half-buried in snow. Kensi froze, her heart dropping into her stomach.

"Deeks." She stood still, knee-deep in the virgin snow, then broke into a run. "Oh, shit. Shitshitshit."

The door was wide open. Drawing closer, Kensi saw that someone had kicked it in—there was wood splintered across the floor, and the bolt hung useless.

"Shit." She tramped inside, surveying the scene, and Deeks followed a moment later. They stood side by side, staring in a cold silence.

Someone (someone wearing a certain ski mask, Kensi thought) had dug through their drawers, ripped clothing and socks and woolen hats from the dresser and scattered them across the floor. Piles of snow had swirled through the open door and heaped on the floor; it was now melting into vast puddles.

Kensi felt sick. She had her weapon, and thankfully they didn't have any material plans for the mission. Hetty had probably foreseen a situation like this—Kensi realized that she had not and felt a flush of shame heat her cheeks. Months of training, years of experience just to gain _entry_ to the OSP, and she was felled by a couple of ski-mask clad intruders.

"Hey," Deeks said, appearing by her side. "It's okay. It's not your fault," He paused, then added, "_Our_ fault. It's not anyone's fault."

"Sure it's not." Kensi stooped and began to gather the scattered papers, fragments of a broken telescope.

"It's not like we could have predicted this," Deeks said fairly, "We're only human."

"And you're what? A detective? I train too hard to let this happen. We were attacked because I wasn't paying attention. Because I was stupid."

"Don't say it like that," Deeks snapped. "I'm an agent, same as you."

There was a moment of hot, tense silence. Kensi and Deeks faced each other, both unwilling to move. Kensi was trembling, not from rage but from cold. Goosebumps had risen on her skin. Her teeth clattered together.

"We should put the door back on." Deeks said, and went to move it back into place. They latched it best they could, pushed a chair under the door, and cleared away the rest of the mess. Kensi made a mental catalogue of missing things: the thief—or thieves—had taken a high-power telescope and some bullets. Kensi, thinking ahead, dreaded facing Hetty's wrath when she found out about the stolen items. Their clothes, too, were soaked through with melted snow. Kensi salvaged a pair of flannel pants from the puddles.

"It's freezing in here." Deeks said, and lit a fire with the remainder of the wood. Smoke warmed the room, but Kensi was still shivering in her damp clothing.

"Don't look," She said, and stripped from the safety of a bedsheet. Deeks turned away, but Kensi saw him glance back. "Hey, just because we..." She trailed off, unwilling to say too much. Kissing her partner was already going too far.

"I won't." Deeks went behind the couch. Kensi stared at the ceiling—sure, it wasn't so bad to see her partner shirtless, but she wasn't interested in pushing any romantic aspect. He returned wearing a very familiar pair of flannel pants, dark green plaid.

"_Excuse me_," Kensi cried, "Those are my pants!"

"Really?" Deeks seemed to be feigning surprise. "Wow, I didn't notice. They don't look like women's pants."

"They're not. I got them in the menswear section of Target." Kensi snapped. "Take them off! I don't want my nice clean pants touching your—_ew just take them off_!"

"All of my stuff is soaking wet!" Deeks returned, smiling nonchalantly. "Do you want me to get hypothermia and _die_?"

"I wouldn't mind so much."

"Sweet, Kensi. You're really lovable, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Shut up." She sat cross-legged on the bed and began to clean her gun. Pushing the little wire brush in and out had become a mindless activity. Kensi looked up and saw Deeks shirtless. Her eyes flickered across his wicked scars; then she looked down.

"It's okay," He said suddenly. "You don't have to act like you didn't see."

"I..."

"My dad," Deeks sat down beside her, and they both stared at the same spot on the ceiling. "He liked his booze. Big time. And when he got wasted, you know, there was no stopping him. Got shitfaced one night and came at me with a broken beer bottle." Deeks indicated a thin white scar that crossed his upper arm. It was fading, Kensi noticed. "But it wasn't only when he was drunk."

"Shit, Deeks..." Kensi had never really thought about Deeks's many scars—sure, she had seen them, but she had figured that they were the result of a lifetime of fighting crime, obtained in the line of duty.

"Even when he was sober...one wrong move and you'd be screwed. Did a number on my back without a single drink in him."

As much as her mind was telling her not to, as much as every muscle was resisting, Kensi found her fingers tracing the scar across Deeks's back.

"How did—"

"A belt." Deeks spoke very softly. He didn't look at her. "Ten years old."

Kensi could not imagine just how cruel a man would have to be to inflict such pain on a child. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"He might have been crazy, but he was still my dad." Deeks let out a bitter laugh. "I was tempted more than once. Neighbors called the cops once. They came in and took me outside. I could have told them everything."

"What did you do?"

"Pulled down my shirt to hide the bruises. They were nice cops. Made want to do something good with my life."

"Well, shit, Deeks." Kensi found herself laughing, but it was cynical laughter. "Could've told me."

"What would you have done?" Deeks asked, and Kensi realized that she didn't really know. "Besides, it was a long time ago."

Silence came then, and it lingered for a long time. Deeks couldn't seem to meet Kensi's eyes, and she felt the sudden urge to throw her arms around him.

"You know what?" Deeks said after a while. "Forget that I told you that. You don't need my problems."

"No!" Kensi sat up rigid, gripping her partner's arm. "No, Deeks. You—I'm glad that...look, I'm glad that you told me."

"Like I said, it was a long time ago." He shrugged, as if this were no big deal. Kensi knew that it was.

"Look at us." She couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sick, you're wearing my pants."

"Jesus." Deeks agreed.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, and Kensi remembered something that her aunt had said, during a family reunion a lifetime ago.

_If you can sit in silence with someone, just sit, with no need for words...keep them around, Kensi._

She smiled.

**Sorry that this took so long! I'm writing another chapter right now! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! I just wanted to apologize for letting so much time pass between writing chapters—I know that it's pretty annoying when a fanfic writer never updates, haha! But here's another chapter, this time with some more 'Densi'! :) Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS:LA or any of the characters!**

North Chapter Ten

"Look," Deeks said later that night, when Kensi was putting a new battery into the satellite phone, "About what happened earlier today. In the snowcave thing..."

Kensi wanted to stand up and say '_You mean kissing me _yet again_?'. _ Instead, she tapped the battery against the table. "It's fine. Things happen. We're a long way from home."

And it was true: things _did_ happen on lengthy away-missions, when agents were far from home, alone together in a strange world. Tensions were always high, and emotions got, well, screwy. Kensi recalled another mission with another partner, in South America. She had been stationed in San Diego then. It seemed a lifetime away, in a world of swaying palm trees and ocean breezes. But that partner was reassigned now, to the Middle East, and here Kensi was, in a snowed-in shack in the middle of nowhere.

She might have laughed, but suddenly the situation felt far from humorous.

"Yeah," Deeks said, bringing Kensi back to the present. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to, you know, screw around with you or anything."

This sounded funny, coming from Deeks. Kensi had the feeling that they'd had this conversation before.

"Yeah." She said, forcing resolve into her voice.

"I just want you to know that." Deeks replied. This entire conversation felt strangely surreal. Kensi looked at her partner, really _looked_, and she saw a scarred teenager, a kid who just wanted to put a little good into the world, a brave-faced kid who had grown up into a truly brave man.

"I know." Kensi said, and she rose to her feet. She went to Deeks and she put a hand on his shoulder and sort of patted it awkwardly. "I know." And then she was hugging him, and he was hugging her back. Something, for a fraction of a second, felt _so very right_, and Kensi could see herself doing this in a month and a year and ten years. Then she was brought back to earth by the fact that she was embracing her partner very tightly. She let go, stepped back. Blushed. Fought said blush away and went to go busy herself doing nothing at the kitchen table.

They spent the rest of the night like that, until it got dark and late and cold. Kensi went to bed first, and Deeks came in sometime later. She once would have cringed at the thought of sharing a bed with him. Now, it hardly seemed strange. Funny, how things work themselves out like that.

Kensi fell into a fitful sleep, and sometime during the night she woke to find herself entangled with Deeks. Her arms were around his waist and her head was on his chest and their legs were all tangled up. She raised her head sleepily and then lay back down again in the half-light and slept again.

* * *

><p>The morning came gently. Snow had fallen in the night. Deeks was out of bed by six o'clock, taking his sweet time in the shower. Kensi contemplated wearing an extra layer of deodorant in lieu of taking a shower, but decided against it. The water was bitingly cold.<p>

When she was dressed (in several extra layers), Kensi dragged Deeks over to the kitchen table. They needed a plan of action.

"First order of business," She said. "We get out of here."

"Agreed." Snow was in danger of coming in through the shoddily-repaired door. "I think the roof might give in."

"Second order of business: we find those damn spooks."

"Ski-mask and his friend?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a while. Kensi knew that Deeks was wondering the same thing that she was: how on earth would they find a couple of strangers in the middle of nowhere when they had not even glimpsed their attacker's faces? It would be close to impossible, and Kensi said so.

"Hey," Deeks said, and he sounded only half-convinced. "It's going to be okay."

He put his hand on hers, and they stayed like that for a minute before it became a stiff, awkward gesture. Kensi stood up. She was all business, packing the room's contents into bags, trying to avoid eye contact with Deeks. Something between them was beginning to shift, and it frightened her. Snow had begun to fall again outside, lightly at first. Kensi could see dark clouds above the treetops, though, and she realized that another storm was coming.

"Deeks," She dropped a thinner jacket into her suitcase. "I think we should stay the night here."

"What?" Deeks came out of the bathroom with a bottle of shampoo. "Why?" He opened the shampoo bottle and sniffed. "This stuff smells awesome, by the way."

"Put it down." Kensi said. She went to the window and looked out. "There's a storm coming."

Deeks was silent. Kensi could sense his unease. They stood in a stiff silence for a while, and Kensi became violently aware of the shift between them, of something _there _where before only friendship had existed. It made her exceedingly uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>They spent one last night there, in the tiny house in the vast darkness of the woods. Kensi opened her last bottle of vodka, and they passed it back and forth until they were both drunk enough to kiss without shame.<p>

"Are you okay?" Deeks said when he drew away. His eyes, in the dim light, were painfully bright, painfully blue.

"I'm fine," Kensi said, and pressed herself to him. Deeks kissed her back, and they were more than half drunk and stumbling to the bed, and Kensi made no move to stop Deeks or herself. She wanted this. She _wanted _this.

The night was cold and they were both lonely, and the closeness of another human body, another warm human body, was too much to shy away from. They were fierce and held on to each other in a sad, desperate way, and Kensi had never been with anyone like this, _ever_, not even Jack. Afterwards, she turned her head to Deeks's shoulder and they tried to make small talk, but that was impossible: what are you supposed to say to a person who knows you so well, who has dodged the same bullets and bombs that you have, that has seen the same horrors?

So they lay in silence, and when Kensi woke in the gray hours of the dawn Deeks was out of bed and packing up the last of their things. Kensi dressed warmly, and they wore their extra parkas, and hauled the belongings out of the little house quickly. The sky overhead was blue-gray, almost white. There were no clouds.

"We need to get out of here," Deeks said. His face was suddenly unsmiling, and there was none of the familiar humor in his voice. Kensi, trudging through the snow beside him, began to feel a little sick. There was something bordering on regret creeping into her mind, and she wanted it all out.

"Deeks," She said, "What the hell happened last night?"

"You don't remember?" Deeks asked loudly, turning to her with an expression of upmost horror.

"No!" Kensi countered. "No, I do. I do." They laughed, nervous. "So I guess this means..."

"Yeah." Deeks said. Kensi understood.

"Yeah." She said, and they walked on in silence.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! :) So...a little clarification. The last chapter was weird. It was confusing. I'm sorry for that. In short, the ending kind of sucked. I know that some of you, dear readers, were confused as to what exactly happened. Everything will be explained in this chapter, so don't worry! (And if you're still confused, PM me and I'll explain in more depth!) Thanks guys! Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: LA.**

Chapter Eleven

A relationship. A _relationship. _Special Agent Kensi Blye leaned over the tiny sink in the tiny bathroom of a tiny motel, and stared down her reflection in a spotted mirror. It was her reflection that worried her: despite the faint circles beneath her eyes, and the messiness of her hair, Kensi looked _happy._ She splashed her face with cold water and scrubbed it dry with a motel towel. Kensi left the tiny bathroom feeling strangely lighthearted. The motel room was small and warmly lit by a single lamp: after the cold darkness of the house in the woods, it was a tiny haven. Deeks was sitting on one of the narrow beds. He looked drawn and worried. Kensi felt like patting his knee or head, in the way that a grandmother might. He looked so lost.

"Hey Kens." Deeks said when she entered. Kensi sat cross-legged on the other bed, faced Deeks, stared at him silently.

"We screwed up," She said. "Literally."

"From what I remember," Deeks smirked, "You did most of the screwing."

Kensi gave him an appropriately fiery glare. "What happened, happened. We can't change that."

"We can forget about it." Deeks said, sounding almost hopeful. "Shit happens, Kensi. You should know that more than anyone."

This was _not _headed in the direction that Kensi had hoped it would. While staring down her Deeks, she tried to run a mental checklist.

Fact: she had consumed an insane amount of alcohol with her partner.

Fact: They were several hundred miles from home, both lonely, and both scared but unwilling to admit it.

Fact: They had slept together. _No, _Kensi scolded herself. _No, 'slept' was too nice of a word. They had had...sex. No. 'Relations'? Too stuffy. Intercourse? Oh, God...even worse. Slept together. Okay. The lesser of several evils._

"We really need to talk about this, Deeks." Kensi said, a little louder than she had meant. "This is important."

"I know," Deeks looked frightened. "We screwed up. Bad. This is really, really bad."

"It's not the end of the world!" Kensi snapped.

"It is to me!" Deeks returned. He seized her shoulders and stared into her eyes. "If anyone finds out about this, our partnership is compromised. They'll break us up—they'll ship you off to San Diego, or D.C., or Georgia!"

There was a moment of tense silence. Kensi knew that Deeks was right, and that scared her. By no means were they involved in a relationship, but should anyone find out about their 'fling', there would be a clear and present danger: one of them could be transferred to some distant field office. The thought was horrifying: Kensi would not only lose her partner, but one of her closest friends, her...

Lover? Boyfriend? No...a boyfriend was someone who you went on dates with, who bought you flowers and took you out to dinner. 'Lover' seemed to secretive, too strange and fervent. Deeks was neither. He was a fling, the same way that John Hooper had been in high school, and that stupid frat boy in college. Someone who made flirty eyes with you in class, and you kissed a few times, and then went too far with one night. And you always kind of secretly regretted it, because now that person was in the gray area between friend and lover, and you couldn't stop thinking about what life would be like if they had remained a friend, or become a lover.

And that was how it would go. Nobody would know about that night that the two of you had spent in an unmade bed, him playing with your hair and whispering in your ear, and kissing you numb. No. It would be a secret, but one that eventually faded into a memory, and lingered in the back of your mind. Something that you didn't really think about.

"I'm sorry," Kensi said. "God, Deeks. I'm so sorry."

"No," Deeks put his cheek against hers. One of his hands was on her neck, the other on her shoulder. He whispered, "Don't be. Don't be sorry."

They kissed. Kensi tried to feel guilty but she couldn't, she could only feel light and happy and giddy.

"What are we doing?" Kensi asked, and she kissed him back. Deeks did not reply.

Later that night, when Kensi was lying on her narrow motel bed, she found herself taken back to another time, another place. A million years ago and as many miles away...

* * *

><p><em>"I'm Kensi," She said, and extended a hand. <em>

_"Jack." _

_They shook hands. The bar was small and smoky, a dingy establishment in a crappy area of San Diego. But for Kensi's friend Ken, and his fellow Marines, it was a welcome escape from Camp Pendleton. They had driven out from the Marine base, and met Kensi in the city. She liked Ken, liked his gap-toothed smile and his unfunny jokes and his fellow Marines. They were good guys. Sometimes, Kensi surprised herself by having friends in the Corps: after her father's death, she had figured that she would avoid the Marines...but on the contrary, she had found herself drawn to the military branch. Kensi guessed that it was something that you couldn't get out of your blood. _

_Tonight, Ken had brought a newfound friend with him, a guy named Jack. Kensi liked Jack on sight: he had an easy smile, dark hair cut short on the sides, sharp eyes. Even off-base, he looked like a Marine, carried himself like a Marine. He wore a red 'USMC' sweatshirt. They sat at a round table in the smoky bar, all of them laughing and talking about everything and nothing. Afterwards, Kensi and Jack went for a walk beneath a red evening sky. There were low, dark clouds to the west. They walked for a long time, until they reached the ocean, and the waves were roiling and dark, dark blue. Then Jack went back to base, and Kensi back to her apartment._

_The next day, her partner saw the glowing look on her face. He was a thin, lanky guy named Richy McMullen, had recently grown an ugly mustache. He had three kids and a good heart._

_"You met a guy, Blye? That it?"_

_They were driving out to a crime scene. Kensi shrugged, warm inside her NCIS windbreaker. "Yeah." She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face._

_Richy smirked. "Knew it." He said. "What's his name?"_

_"Jack."_

_"Yeah? That's a good name. He a nice guy?"_

_"Yeah," Kensi said. "Marine."_

_"Huh." Richy said. "Good." They both smiled. Kensi went through her day feeling unusually happy. San Diego was a nice city, and it was almost summer, and she could smell the ocean everywhere she went._

* * *

><p><em>Within the next few years, Kensi would date Jack off-and-on. Richy would get a transfer to Washington, D.C., and Kensi would get a new partner. She would be recruited to OSP. Things would change. She would make a mistake. Go too far with her partner, drift away from Jack. Get back together again. Get engaged. She would settle into life at the Office of Special Projects. Jack would be killed in action. Kensi would get a transfer to Los Angeles.<em>

_Things change. Things change all the time, a fluid cycle from month to month, year to year._

_Things change. People don't._

* * *

><p>"Do you see, Deeks?" Kensi asked. "Do you understand why?"<p>

Deeks was silent for a moment. They were sitting on her bed, alone in the gray motel room. Kensi had talked for twenty minutes, talked about Jack and her father and and the Corps and San Diego and Los Angeles.

There was something akin to sadness, unreadable sadness, in Deeks's eyes.

"For months," He said at last. "_Months_, Kensi. We've been going in circles. Flirting. Talking. You didn't mean any of that?"

"I did—I _did_, Deeks. I really did." Kensi could feel her heart slowly breaking: she felt sick and sad and dizzy. They still had a damn mission to think about, of course. Masked intruders who would probably be glad to kill them. That weird, shady guy...Roger, Kensi thought. They had called him on the phone, but Roger had not called back. Kensi doubted that he would. She felt trapped, restless.

"We can hide it." Deeks said hopefully. "This. We can go back and hide it, and..."

"And what?" Kensi stood up and began to pace, feeling more and more like a caged animal. "Fake being _just friends_? I've played that card one too many times."

Deeks fell silent.

"I'm sorry," Kensi grabbed her parka and shrugged it on. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Deeks called as she stepped through the motel room door and into a light snowfall.

"Out!" She replied, not looking back.

The parking lot was bordered by a dark fringe of trees, and Kensi skirted it, trudging through deepening snow. She needed time to think things through: her entire future could be hanging in the balance here. Time. Yes. Lots of time.

She was shivering and the wind was cutting against her like a dull blade, but Kensi ignored it. She walked fast, moving away from the motel. She knew that she was running away from her problems: a common problem, she was sure. Romantic comedies seemed to thrive on that idea...boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, girl flees from problems, boy is heartbroken, they reconcile and end up getting married and living with two kids and a dog in a house with a white picket fence.

If only things were so simple.

Kensi wound her scarf around her nose and mouth. She was cold, very cold, and her mind was back in the motel room with Deeks. She did not hear footsteps behind her, did not see the shadowy figure or the ski mask. She only felt the impact of something against her head, and sharp, shooting pain, and blackness overwhelming her.

If only things were so simple, indeed...


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello all! Here's another chapter! This one changes things up a little, and is told from both Kensi and Deeks's points of view. Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: LA.**

Chapter Twelve

Darkness. Pain. Throbbing, throbbing pain. Kensi could neither see nor hear...there was only the feeling of pain and damp concrete beneath her, the binding sensation of ropes around her wrists and ankles. She was lying on her side, the taste of blood in her mouth, robbed of her vision. There was only blackness.

_Oh, God. No. No. Please no._

She tried to breath deeply, but panic had closed up her throat. Kensi's chest was tight, her stomach clenched into knots. Breath in. Breath out. In a vain attempt to calm herself down, Kensi prayed. She remembered going to Mass at the local Catholic church as a kid, listening to a robed priest talk at length about God and His work. She hadn't understood any of it, but she liked the songs. Some of the Psalms she liked as well, and had remembered throughout her life.

_Oh, God, where's Deeks? _Dizzy sickness swooped into her stomach. Kensi felt guilty for not worrying about him sooner: what if Deeks had befallen the same fate? Tied up, left for dead? What if he _was—_

No. Stop. Freaking out will only make things worse. Kensi thought about what Hetty would say if she were in this situation. Probably nothing good. Probably nothing G-rated, either. Kensi lay in the darkness, her eyes closed, and fought off encroaching panic.

She could smell, very faintly, the scent of snow and cigarette smoke.

* * *

><p>"Kensi?" Deeks strode across the motel's parking lot, cupping his hands around his mouth. A light, dusty snow had begun to fall; darkness was closing in quickly. There were few cars in the parking lot. The motel was small, and dumpy: a series of small connected rooms, like bungalows, painted white and bordered by black forest. There was a small lobby, and Deeks hurried towards it.<p>

Inside, a bored-looking teenage girl dozed behind the front desk. An elderly man was fast asleep in one of two crappy armchairs. Frost blurred the windows.

Deeks looked around for Kensi; she was nowhere to be found. There was a door marked 'rest-room' and he rapped sharply on it, calling out. The girl behind the desk gave him an apathetic sort of glare.

Two young men came in, dressed in jackets and stomping snow off of their boots, and paid for a room for the night.

"Double bed?" The girl asked with a slightly knowing smirk.

"No," The taller of them rolled his eyes. "We're not...we're brothers, okay?"

"Uh-huh." The girl, still smirking, accepted their cash. When the young men had shouldered their way through the door, out into the gathering darkness, Deeks approached the desk.

"Did a woman come through here a few minutes ago? Maybe a half-hour?"

"What does she look like?"

"Pretty. Dark hair, about my height." He began to feel desperate. "She has really unique eyes. One blue, one brown."

"No." The girl flipped through a teen magazine. "Do you have any cigarettes?"

"I don't smoke," Deeks said, and went out again. Night had fallen over the tiny town. He paced in the parking lot, jittery with fright. Kensi was gone. She was not in the room, not in the lobby. Deeks traversed the edge of the forest, his heartbeat growing unhealthily quick. He was about the give up and go check the Grayhound bus terminal when his boot collided with something half-buried in the snow.

Deeks knelt, picked it up.

His heart stopped for a second.

It was a cross necklace, silver. Small, strung around a thin chain. Deeks had seen the same necklace around his partner's neck earlier, had seen her touch it sometimes, almost absentmindedly, when they were stuck on a case or had run out of leads. He felt sick.

"Shit." Deeks pocketed the necklace, scanned the ground for footprints—Damn it, why couldn't Kensi be here? She knew everything about tracking, about hunting and survival and...

No. This wasn't time to get weepy. Deeks stood up and raced towards the woods, into the darkness.

* * *

><p>In the wane light and the pressing cold, Kensi arched her back from the floor. It hurt—everything hurt, every small motion and every breath. There was a cold weight in her bra: a small knife, a black-and-silver hunting model kept there for occasions like this. What criminal, caught up in the heat of the moment, would think to check a woman's bra for weaponry?<p>

_Your mistake, suckers. _Kensi felt the ropes binding her wrists stretch taught as she shimmied awkwardly. The knife was nearly dislodged. She hopped up and down, wincing as pain radiated through her neck and back. There was blood shining darkly on the concrete. Almost...almost...

There. The knife fell, sliding from her shirtfront across her chest and neck; Kensi caught it deftly between her teeth. At times like this, alone in the rank darkness, she was glad that she had received top-notch training from the Office of Special Projects.

Kensi dropped the knife, fumbling it into her hands, and flipped it open with numb fingers. A cut stung hotly on her palm. She cut the ropes in half a minute, moved on to her ankles. Kensi glanced around the room: coldly empty, save for a heap of plastic bags in the corner. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were intended for. There was another length of rope coiled in the corner. Kensi contemplated taking it with her, in case she needed to strangle someone in a hurry, but decided that it would only weigh her down. She needed to be light and fast and free.

Kensi moved to the door, treading lightly, placing her feet carefully. She heard distant voices. One sounded familiar. Footsteps, moving away from her, and then a door opening and slamming shut.

The smell of snow grew stronger.

* * *

><p>Deeks jogged after a while, and then he ran again. Heat burned in his chest, a combination of cold and panic—he had been trained for this, had encountered similar situations on the streets of LA, but this was Kensi here...this was Kensi gone, vanished in the snow.<p>

Breath. Stay calm. _Breath, dammit. _

He hugged the treeline best he could, keeping away from the denser forest. The pine trees were giant needles now, dusted with snow. A road bisected the woods to his right, but to his left there was only thick, pine-scented darkness.

Deeks tried not to think about Kensi, or the way that her hair looked in the sunlight, or her laugh. He knew that these were all chick-flick clichés, little things that he would do best to steer clear of, but he could not avoid them.

The road wound into the trees, and after a while Deeks saw footprints at the edge, and then tire tracks.

Someone had driven up to the edge of the road and climbed out of a car or truck. Car, judging by the size and width of the tracks. There was a deeper furrow than ran beside the footprints. When Deeks saw it, his heart leapt into his throat.

Someone had dragged a body here.

He broke into a run, plunging through the trees in pursuit of the footprints. They were deep enough to follow. He did.

Kensi was somewhere in this darkness: Deeks knew it. He held his gun before him, heavy-hearted with the knowledge that he couldn't really see well enough to fire it safely.

A shape slowly emerged from the darkness. Deeks squinted, unable to tell if it was a shed or house or just a big, snow rock.

It was a house.

A small house, with a sagging roof and crappy tin-roofed garage, the bulky shape of a covered car beneath it.

Deeks approached slowly, keeping to the shadows. As he did, the front door creaked open, then slammed shut. A tall, slope-shouldered man came out and lit a cigarette. Deeks ducked behind a tree, breathing quickly. He stayed there for several minutes, hoping that the smoking man would move away or at least go back in inside. He peered out, into a hazy darkness.

The man was gone. Deeks began to creep forwards, hands wrapped around his gun. He did not hear nor see the man behind him until something came down across his head, cracking sharply, and he realized that it was the butt of a gun before he crumpled to the ground.

"Gotcha." Someone said. Against his will, Deeks let out a high-pitched groan.

Squinting through the warm blood that clouded his eyes, Deeks looked up and saw the warm red glow of a cigarette tip.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked it! Apologies for not getting it out and online sooner!<strong>


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